Neville and Hermione: A Love Story
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: This took me all weekend. And it is definitely the last of my Neville/Hermione binge. I wanted to write a Hogwarts slow-burn romance between the two, in the vein of Harry Potter and the Ebony Belle. Everyone please enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Lost Toad

**Chapter 1: Lost Toad**

Neville stalked up and down the train corridor, his eyes scanning frantically. Not on the Hogwarts Express for ten minutes, and he had already lost his pet. It had been a gift from his Gran besides; she would be so disappointed in him. Was a toad really that hard of an animal to lose? Dogs and cats and owls went missing all the time. But a toad... he would have thought even he would have a better handle on it.

"Here, Trevor! Come on out, Trevor!" He almost definitely looked a tad ridiculous, patrolling down the aisle and clapping his hands, so he kept his beckoning applause as quiet as he could to avoid laughs or jeers. He expected as much to come his way at some point. Neville had always been the favorite of bullies at his primary school; why would the top wizarding school in Britain be any different?

"What are you looking for?" a voice called from above. Neville glanced up from where he had been keeping his eyes resolutely to the floor.

He beheld a witch already in Hogwarts robes. She looked to be about his age, with frizzy brown hair, even deeper brown eyes and a kind face. She drew about even with him in height.

"My... my toad," Neville stammered. "He hopped away, right out of my compartment!"

The little witch passed no judgement, as Neville might have expected her to. "Not to worry, I'll help you look for him." She stuck out a hand. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Neville. Neville Longbottom."

He waited for the inevitable laugh over his amusing surname, but it didn't come. Instead, Hermione turned around and flounced up the train car.

In that moment, Neville realized he had just met the nicest person he had ever known...


	2. Chapter 2: Comfort in a Bathroom

**Chapter 2: Comfort in a Bathroom**

He had not seen her since their Charms lesson that morning. Normally, it would not have been unusual to Neville, if she didn't also have two afternoon lessons with him, and that he always encountered her in the library, studying up before dinner.

Ever since arriving at Hogwarts, Neville had stuck as close to Hermione Granger as he could without being creepy about it. He quickly learned that she was a valuable ally; despite being Muggle-born, she was quickly proving to be the best in their year, in all subjects. The only one Neville thought he could compete with her in was Herbology, but he had always been fascinated by plants.

Not seeing his friend in his favorite subject had been the first red flag for him. After checking every aisle of the library, save for the Restricted Section, he knew something was wrong.

Resigned to going down to the Great Hall for dinner without her, Neville was moseying along the third floor corridor when he thought he heard what sounded like sniffling. Coming from the girls' bathroom, as his head wheeled around to track the sound.

Neville glanced furtively about him. The corridor was deserted at present; most of the other students were at dinner by now. As bravely as he dared, Neville broke the first rule of his Hogwarts career and slipped inside the bathroom meant for the opposite gender.

The door slammed shut louder than he meant it to, so that the crying abruptly halted. "Who's there?"

It was her voice. Hermione's. He'd know it anywhere. "Hermione? Are you all right?"

She yelped at the distinctly male timbre. "Neville! What are you doing in here? You're not supposed to be in the girls' bathroom!"

Neville folded into himself a little under her scolding. "I heard you crying, and no one's seen you all afternoon..." Spying her feet peeking out from under one stall, he tentatively sank to his knees by the stall and leaned against it, facing the mirrors.

The pair sat in companionable silence for a moment, no one disturbing them. At last, the boy spoke:

"What's wrong?"

Hermione sniffed. "It's that impossible Ronald Weasley! He... he called me a nightmare after I tried to teach him Wingardium Leviosa in Charms this morning!"

Neville remembered the lesson. And Ronald Weasley was equally hard to forget. Still, the alleged insult surprised him. Neville had never taken Ron to be the mean type - he certainly was no Draco Malfoy. Still, perhaps being the last in a long line of sons, the second-youngest Weasley child felt he had something to prove enough as it was. All the first years were still trying to prove themselves and perhaps Hermione had unintentionally gotten in Ron's way.

"Well..." Neville gathered a thought, based on things he had observed in primary school. "Maybe it's his way of saying he really likes you."

Hermione laughed bitterly, getting the joke. "Fat chance of that, Neville! Though you're sweet." She too recalled seeing boys in her Muggle elementary pulling on a girl's hair to get her attention.

"Did Harry say anything?" The famous Harry Potter had fallen in thick with Ron Weasley; the duo rarely left each other's sides.

"If he did, I didn't hear; I fled. Didn't want anyone to see me cry."

And why wouldn't she? Neville had to admire this about her. Hermione was a very proud person, and that would serve her well when others might attempt to tell her she didn't belong in a wizard's world. Trying to find some other way to soothe her, he entreated:

"You must be hungry. Everyone else is down at the Halloween feast. You want me to walk down there with you?"

Hermione hiccupped. "You're sweet, Neville. But you go on ahead. You're late as it is!"

Neville sighed and started to get up. A touch of his hand stopped him.

"Neville?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a good friend." And Hermione Granger squeezed his hand.


	3. Chapter 3: I'll Fight You

**Chapter 3: I'll Fight You**

His hunch had been right. He could hear the three of them, pitter-pattering down from the dormitories. Even so, Neville kept still in the armchair, trying to work out just what he was going to do or say.

Ever since a troll had forced Harry, Ron and Hermione to reach a truce, the three had been nothing but mischievous. Well, the boys had the real knack for trouble; poor Hermione often got dragged into it when trying to stop them. But even now, she was bewitched into their exploits.

Neville didn't like it one bit.

"Bloody hell!" he heard Ron hiss. "Trevor! Get out of here; you shouldn't be down here!"

Neville swiveled the armchair around, on which Trevor was perched on the armrest. "Neither should you!"

Ron threw up his hands, frustrated at watching their perfectly little scheme go down the drain. Harry, being of a more diplomatic mind, tried to talk Neville down. "Neville, we're just going out. We'll be right back..."

"No! I won't let you! You'll get Gryffindor in trouble again!" His voice was raised enough to wake up the whole Common Room, but Neville didn't care. And even though he now realized he didn't have his wand - had left it beside his four-poster - he raised his fists. "I'll fight you!"

Hermione stepped forward, looking genuinely regretful. "Neville, I'm really, really sorry about this. Petrificus Totalus!"

Neville went as cold and as stiff as a board before keeling over backwards. Through his frozen eyes, he watched as Harry and Ron shuffled awkwardly around him.

And as Hermione Granger stepped over his prone form, Neville realized that she was the most beautiful witch he had ever seen.


	4. Chapter 4: While You Were Sleeping

**Chapter 4: While You Were Sleeping**

She hadn't deserved to be one of the victims. Neville would not have thought it possible. The Cleverest Witch of Her Age... a basilisk shouldn't have beaten her, or even caught her unawares, coming home from the library late at night.

Thank Merlin she had only been Petrified, and not killed. But you would never have known the difference, the way Harry and Ron had sprinted after McGonagall off the Quidditch pitch in a blind panic, forgetting the match that she had abruptly cancelled. Following them, Neville had felt his heart sink like a stone when he saw the victim. And Hermione hadn't been the only one. Poor Colin Creevey, a hapless first-year that reminded Neville somewhat of himself, had been attacked too.

There were whispers that the school itself was going to close. That Professor Sprout was feverishly working on a cure for Mandrakes. She wasn't working fast enough, in Neville's opinion, and he had even once tried to enlist his services of his favorite teacher, but his courage had failed him. She may have asked why he was so eager, perhaps even guessed at the reason.

And no one could know the reason. Not yet, anyway.

Staring down at Hermione's still form in the late evening sun of the hospital wing, Neville periodically checked the clock. He didn't want to be here when Harry and Ron inevitably showed up, after the dinner rush. These past two years, the three friends had grown ever closer, with Harry and Ron become more and more willing to play dirty to ward off bullies, for whom Hermione had become a prime target. The two boys were very protective of her, and Neville had to pity any boy in the future who might want to go out with Hermione. Harry and Ron would hex his bollocks off first.

Which is why neither of them could know about his crush.

Neville didn't know if Hermione might return the feelings. She probably did not. She only ever saw him as a friend in need, a classmate to help out. Innocent, probably too naive to even have thoughts of dating and... other stuff. Neville didn't quite know what that other stuff was yet, but he figured he would understand soon enough.

Dinner was just about over, according to the clock. Another meal skipped. He had better return to the library and face Snape's Potions essay; get out of here long ahead of Harry and Ron, who were probably fast on their way. Neville squeezed Hermione's hand.

"I'll be back tomorrow, Hermione." He daren't say anything affectionate, like _'I Love You'_ , fearing that she might hear, even in her comatose state. Quietly, the boy slipped away.


	5. Chapter 5: Punches Thrown

**Chapter 5: Punches Thrown**

It was a beautiful spring day out on the grounds of Hogwarts. Neville was by the ring of stones, just up the hill from Hagrid's hut, his face buried in a Herbology book. Glancing up, he happened to see Harry, Ron and Hermione coming down the slope, probably on their way to see Hagrid, the school's gamekeeper and their close friend. Neville's heart sped up when he saw Hermione wave at him and detour over towards him.

"Afternoon, Neville!"

"Hey, Hermione," Neville grinned, even as his heart hammered from just looking at her.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Neville tried and failed not to get his hopes up. She wouldn't possibly ask him that question... would she?

"Would you be interested in joining S.P.E.W.? It's the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare! You could be the second member!"

Neville had always liked house elves, and if only to get closer to Hermione, he'd figured he could give it a try. He was just about to ask why Harry and Ron hadn't joined (he figured they would be the first members), when the group heard a chortle.

"Granger trying to corrupt the simpletons with her pathetic hippie causes? Typical of a Mudblood!" Draco sneered.

He shouldn't have run his mouth so, for before any of the boys could stop her, Hermione marched right up to Malfoy and punched him right in the nose.

Neville couldn't exactly blame her. Malfoy had called her a Mudblood before. One time in second year, Ron had tried to hex the blond bastard into eating slugs, but accidentally turned the curse on himself. But then, Hermione said something that made Neville stare in surprise.

"Don't you _dare_ call Neville a simpleton, you foul - you evil -"

"Hermione!" Ron, though sounding impressed, quickly pulled Hermione away from Malfoy, Harry moving hurriedly to help him.

Malfoy raced away with his toadies, blood spurting from his nose. Hermione turned back to Neville and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Neville nodded, and watched the Golden Trio go. For one mad moment, he had...

That was the first moment he had wanted to kiss Hermione Granger.


	6. Chapter 6: Enchanted Rose, Strike One

**Chapter 6: Enchanted Rose, Strike One**

Neville Longbottom's brow furrowed as he concentrated on adding just the right amount of Shining Potion from the squeeze tube. As he watched the petals of the red rose glisten in exactly the way the Herbology book said they were supposed to, he grinned triumphantly. It was ready! And not a moment too soon, either.

Ever since the Yule Ball had been announced after the completion of the Second Task, Neville Longbottom had decided to gather the Gryffindor courage he knew had to be within him somewhere. Helping Harry Potter successfully navigate the Black Lake with Gillyweed had only served to boost his confidence, to finally approach the secret object of his affection and ask a question.

Neville had secretly had a crush on Hermione Granger for years. She had always helped him with the subjects he struggled in (Potions and Professor Snape being his largest hurdle by far, and Herbology the one exception). She was intelligent, the best in their fourth year. And, at the end of this summer, Neville had noticed she had blossomed into an even more attractive witch. Developed more womanly curves. He knew if he wanted her to be his date to the Yule Ball, he would have to move fast.

There was a likely very big obstacle that could move faster than he.

Viktor Krum, the Quidditch hero and Durmstrang Triwizard Champion, had conspicuously chosen Hermione as his object stolen from him and hidden at the bottom of the Black Lake. Most of the Hogwarts student body had been whispering about the pair, and the general gossip consensus was that Krum fancied Hermione - much to the disbelief of many, especially the other girls. Whether Hermione returned the sentiments was the topic up for the most intense debate. Although Krum had not asked Hermione to the ball, as far as Neville was aware, he knew it was only a matter of time.

So thinking, he took his enchanted rose with him from Professor Sprout's greenhouse and hurried up to the castle, encouraged to ask Hermione Granger to the Yule Ball by the end of the day. Even before the start of their final class.

* * *

Over a period of several days, Neville had closely watched Hermione's routine after their double Potions lesson with Professor Snape. She almost always left with Ron and Harry, going as far as the third floor of the grand staircase before peeling off to the library to study.

Neville knew this would the opportune moment, in the quiet of the maze of bookshelves, to get Hermione alone. He was being amazingly courageous to even ask her at all. To do so with the increased chance of other people watching or overhearing? He wasn't _that_ brave. And he shuddered to think about how Ron and Harry might react. They had always been very protective of Hermione, like she was a baby sister to them; they had gone after Draco Malfoy more than once to defend her honor - not every wizard had that kind of juevos.

As soon as Snape dismissed his students for the day, Neville packed up his bag, clumsily getting his satchel's zipper stuck at first in his haste. Joining the throng of fourth years a decent distance behind the Golden Trio, he followed inconspicuously, the rose hidden safely in his cloak.

At the grand staircase, he watched as Hermione bid goodbye to the boys and peeled off down the corridor towards the library. He slipped after her, trailing so as not to arouse her suspicion. By the time he entered the hall of study, she had disappeared amongst her precious books.

Heart in his throat, Neville scanned down aisle by aisle, until at last he found Hermione, in a thankfully deserted section. A table at the back corner of one reading nook, concentrating on Snape's latest essay. Taking a deep breath, one hand hidden in his cloak and on the rose, Neville strode forward. _Just do it quick, like a bandaid_ , he had heard Fred and George Weasley telling one nervous fifth year about getting a date. It seemed like good advice, especially from a normally unreliable, joking source like the Weasley twins.

"Hey, Hermione."

Hermione looked up, her face looking beautiful when framed with her bushy brown hair. "Oh, hey, Neville," she smiled. "What's up?"

"I want to ask you something!" Neville got out a little too forcefully, before his nerves failed him.

Hermione chuckled curiously, thrown by his eagerness. "OK..." she smiled in encouragement. It was probably about Snape's essay, or even how to hold up against his merciless mockery in class.

It turned out to be neither, as Hermione watched Neville pull a sparkling rose from his cloak and hold it aloft, out to her. "Wouldyouliketogototheballwithme?"

He got it out in a rush, so that the words ran together, and he even stuttered on a syllable or two. Hermione regarded him kindly.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that."

Neville breathed deeply, even as his heart hammered erratically. "What I meant to say was... would you like to go... to the Yule Ball with me?" He outstretched the rose to her a little more, and Hermione gingerly took it, gaping at him in surprise. Her one finger brushed a petal, but scarcely, as if she was afraid it might break under her touch.

Then... she smiled genuinely, truly touched. "Did you _make_ this? For _me_?"

Neville blushed and shrugged, his breathing starting to even out now that the worst was over. At least, he thought. "Yes. Just a Shimmering Potion. I stayed up all night getting it right."

Hermione beamed with pride. She knew how hard Potions was for him, even without a Snape breathing down his neck. "I'm so flattered..."

There was a _but_ coming; he knew it and Neville steeled himself for the letting down easy.

"But….. Viktor Krum has already asked me, and I…. I said I'd go with him." To Hermione's credit, she genuinely looked pained and sorry. "I'm really sorry, Neville."

Neville hid his disappointment well. "That's fine. I understand. Great! I'll see you there, though?"

"Of course," Hermione smiled sadly.

* * *

Neville ultimately ended up asking his second choice, Ginny Weasley, to the ball. Seeing her older brothers all get dates, not being allowed to go due to her age had made her feel left out. She jumped at the chance when Neville offered, and besides, they had grown to be nice friends in her three years at Hogwarts.

Still, Ginny's presence did not help Neville's jealousy, as he watched Hermione dancing in Viktor Krum's arms every night, in a stunning pink dress. But the most wrenching sight of all was at the end of the party, catching sight of Hermione snogging Viktor in a darkened corner.

Neville wished, in his heart of hearts, that he was the one kissing Hermione Granger instead...


	7. Chapter 7: Snogging Me

**Chapter 7: Snogging Me?**

When the Golden Trio had asked him to accompany into Hogsmeade that monthly visit, Neville had been thrilled to be included. Harry had said Neville was a relaxing presence to be around, especially with all the stressful and dark events going on with Umbridge and her ilk. Besides, Neville seemed like an ideal candidate for their "first recruit." Neville wasn't sure what that meant, but if he knew Harry, he imagined all would be revealed in due time.

The quartet took a booth in the corner of the Hog's Head pup, where Harry laid out his plan. Well, it was really Hermione's plan, but he was just reciting the logic she had put into his head. Neville was all too eager to help launch a secret Defense Against the Dark Arts club, to counteract all that Umbridge was failing to teach them.

In the middle of listing the names of potential recruits, Ron seemed to become distracted by a table behind him. "What the bloody hell is my sister doing with Dean?"

Hermione chanced a glance behind her. "Oh, honestly, Ron, they're only holding hands." That is, until Dean leaned across the table and captured Ginny's lips in his. "And snogging," Hermione amended.

Ron grew progressively uncomfortable, going so far as to announce pointedly while the bartender arrived with their drinks, "I'd like to leave."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Hermione scolded, even as she failed to hide her amusement at his discomfort. "If Ginny saw you or Neville snogging _me_ , would you expect her to get up and leave?"

Neville didn't particularly have an answer to what Ginny might do in that situation. But Hermione raising a hypothetical scenario of him kissing her made Neville want to reach around the table and snog the beautiful witch right there...


	8. Chapter 8: Running from Umbridge

**Chapter 8: Running from Umbridge**

Dumbledore's Army, or the DA, turned into a rousing success, especially with the great Harry Potter as its leader.

At least, that was Neville's opinion. He was mastering spells that had troubled him for years. And the best part was, he got to show off his growing confidence to Hermione Granger.

The pair were matched up often for practice duels. Neville suspected Harry's selections were based on aptitudes diametrically opposed, for Hermione could Stun or hex him quite easily. But Neville didn't mind, as he got to bask in the glow of Hermione's smile and warm brown eyes whenever she pulled him to his feet.

"You're getting better," she praised during one nightly session just before Christmas, keeping her hand in his even after helping him up.

Neville happened to glance towards the ceiling, so that he noticed a sprig of Mistletoe glistening unnoticed directly above their heads. He considered gathering his courage, stepping into Hermione's space and kissing her when -

BOOM. A periodic shuddering rocked the Room of Requirement, until a decent hole crumbled in from the stone wall. Peering cautiously through, Harry and his students saw several Inquisitors and a familiarly sadistic witch glaring evilly back at them. Umbridge had found them.

The door to the Room of Requirement was blasted off its hinges.

"RUN!" Harry bellowed. Neville took off, dragging Hermione behind him and refusing to let go. He didn't even check to see if Harry or Ron would make it to safety. Nor did he have time to revel in the soft feeling of Hermione's palm clasped in his own.

"Neville, Neville! Where are we going?" Hermione cried.

"Come on!" Neville dashed them down a corridor, a shortcut that would take them to the Gryffindor Common Room on the next bend when -

The pair were suddenly surrounded. "Freeze, Longbottom!" Draco Malfoy and his blonde hair grinned smugly as Neville and Hermione had no choice but to throw down their wands and reach for the sky...


	9. Chapter 9: Enchanted Rose, Strike Two

**Chapter 9: Enchanted Rose, Strike Two**

It had been another long night in the greenhouses, with Neville recalling and recreating the plant and potion from two years ago. Though it had failed him then, he was sure it would not this time. After all, there was no Viktor Krum looming around...

He caught up with Hermione as she hung back walking up the hill from Hagrid's hut, leaving their evening Care of Magical Creatures class - the final class for Gryffindor sixth years. The sun was just about set above the trees; by the time they reached the castle, it would be dark. Yup, Christmas was coming.

"Hermione!"

She turned, her face glowing and looking beautiful in the rapidly fading light. "Yes, Neville?"

"You heard about Slughorn's party, right?"

Hermione barely suppressed an eye roll at the thought of that nepotistic professor. She loathed the very idea of the Slug Club. "Yes, I am going, though I don't see the point..."

Neville smiled sympathetically. "Well, would it be any more bearable if you went with me?" And he whipped out another enchanted rose with a flourish.

Hermione stared at him for a moment, clearly recognizing the stunt from before the Yule Ball. Then, her eyes seemed to fill with remorseful tears, making Neville's heart drop. Had he offended her, using the same tactic twice over?

"Oh, Neville... I would love to go with you... but I already promised Cormac McLaggen."

Neville seethed inside. Cormac McLaggen had been runner-up to be Keeper on the Quidditch team, Ron beating him out. Most everyone in Gryffindor House correctly viewed him as a pompous ass. Why would someone as mature as Hermione go out with the likes of _him_?

It was almost like Hermione could read his mind. "If you knew why... you wouldn't understand..." And she fled, almost in tears and leaving Neville heartbroken.

* * *

Neville had never liked parties. Mostly because, even if he was lucky enough to be invited to them at all, he always went alone.

It was true now, at Slughorn's Christmas party, to which he had been invited as one of the Potions Master's hand-picked favorite students - the "Slug Club," as it was called. And it would have been true of the Yule Ball two years ago, had he not asked his last place choice, Ginny Weasley, at the last minute. She had just been thrilled to go, as third-years and under had not been allowed. Neville's real choice for that dance had already been chosen by someone else.

He watched her now, peeking out from behind the corner tapestry behind which he was hiding from a prowling Professor Snape. Hermione Granger had been snatched up by another bloke yet again - that swaggering Cormac McLaggen. They were dancing to some of the faint music in the air.

Neville thought he saw Snape heading his way, so he ducked behind the tapestry. A moment later, he felt the fabric move and lift, and he was just about to squeak in fright at Snape's foreboding long nose when -

It wasn't Snape at all. A flushed Hermione Granger dove behind the curtain, panting. She was wearing a cute little pink dress - not as fancy as her Yule Ball gown, certainly, but pretty nonetheless. Her hair was down in striking ringlets. She jumped a little when her eyes met Neville's, obviously surprised to find him there.

"Oh, hello, Neville."

"Hermione? What are you doing?"

"Oh, I just left Cormac... under the mistletoe..." She looked flustered, and her deep brown eyes darted about like she was a cornered animal. She seemed afraid that Cormac would track her down.

"He won't find you here," Neville assured her. "The tosser couldn't find his wand if it did a bloody tap dance in front of him and spit in his eye. Did he try to snog you without asking?"

Hermione chanced a glance at Neville, shocked but still comforted by his perceptiveness. She nodded.

"I hope you smacked him good and hard. No girl should be treated that way!"

Hermione smiled. She was surprised by this new, opinionated, protective Neville, and found that she liked it. "A considerate, feminist gentleman! Such a rare find these days!"

Encouraged, Neville smiled and went on ranting over McLaggen. "No girl should have their first kiss stolen from them!" He faltered at the confused look Hermione sent his way, and the implication sank in. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean to assume..."

Hermione chuckled, her pearly white teeth glistening and looking beautiful. "No. It's fine." Checking all around her, she finally whispered an admission. "I snogged Victor Krum two years ago. Only other person who knows besides you is Ginny."

In truth, Neville had already known, as he had witnessed the display himself. Drat. He should have remembered. He felt a jealous rage burn through him at the thought of the smooth Quidditch star, but he hid it well. Hermione had grown very pretty in recent years; coupled with her intelligence, and she was a hot topic of discussion by the boys in the Gryffindor Common Room. As for him, he had secretly been in love with her for years - the way she always helped him in his studies, among other reasons.

"You?"

"What?" He was shaken from his thoughts.

"Have you ever been kissed?"

Neville barked out a self-deprecating laugh, in spite of himself. "Do I look like the kissing type to you?"

Even as he tried to pass it off as a joke, he looked sad. Hermione's heart went out to him. Neville had always been a sentimental favorite among his friends, a prime bully target for his enemies. A hapless wonder in most things, except Herbology. And here he was, behind a tapestry and having come presumably alone.

Before she could decide how to broach the subject, she heard someone bellow, "GRANGER! Where you at?"

"Oh no! Here he comes!" she squeaked, and she darted out from behind the tapestry to avoid a drunken McLaggen.


	10. Chapter 10: It IS a Date

**Chapter 10: It IS a Date**

"…AND GRYFFINDOR WINS WITH A SCORE OF TWO-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FIVE! Sorry, Slytherin, but it looks like you'll be taking the walk of a loser's shame! Congrats to Gryffindor!" Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff exclaimed with zeal into the magic microphone. "Good luck, Gryffindor, with your next match against the mighty Hufflepuff! You _need_ it!"

"MR. MACMILLAN!" McGonagall said sternly. "I daresay that's enough, won't you?"

Up in the commentator and faculty box, Ernie blushed. "Yes, Professor. I'll shut up now."

"Best idea you've had all day!" McGonagall said, grabbing the magic microphone from his grasp.

Rows and rows of bleachers below the commentator and faculty box, sat Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood. The three were cheering on their other three friends – Harry Potter, and Ron and Ginny Weasley, all of which were on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

It wasn't the first time that Luna had bothered to wear her massive lion's hat, which always drew her much scornful attention; she didn't seem to care, however.

"Ronald was brilliant!" she said serenely, smiling. "He's a very good Keeper."

Hermione nodded, though she didn't completely agree; to be honest, Ron wasn't the greatest of keepers.

"Harry stole the show," Neville said as the stands began to empty. Dozens of feet below the Gryffindor Quidditch team were congratulating each other on their win whilst the Slytherin team stomped off in the direction of their change rooms, led by Draco Malfoy, of course.

"Of course Harry does," Hermione said, also standing from her seat. "He's one of the best seekers Hogwarts has seen in years."

Luna's smile widened. "I thought you didn't care for Quidditch, Hermione?"

"I don't." Hermione shrugged. "But that doesn't mean I don't know a thing or two."

Neville was the last to stand. "I bet there'll be a party in the common room this evening!"

"I don't think I'll attend," Hermione remarked, scowling. "I don't really fancy seeing Ron and Lavender Brown swap spittle."

"Me neither," Neville said, and then he blushed. "I meant, err, about the not attending part, not – not the Ron and Lavender part."

He fell quiet, looking away and feeling more heat rise to his cheeks. He always became so flustered around girls, but it was at its worst when he was around Hermione Granger. She was so nice and helpful, and she had been the first person from Hogwarts he had ever spoken to. He'd never forget her kindness on the train when everyone else had shut the compartment door in his face.

At that moment an idea occurred to flushed Neville.

"H-Hermione," Neville stuttered, fidgeting suddenly.

"Yes, Neville?" Hermione said as the three walked down the bleacher aisle.

"C-Can I, err, speak with you alone for a moment?" he asked. He didn't dare to believe he had just been brave enough to ask Hermione Granger for a moment alone. That itself felt like quite a feat.

Hermione stopped in her tracks, looking at him with curiosity, and then looking over her shoulder at Luna. Luna shrugged, apparently indifferent about Neville's request.

"I'll leave you two be," she said dreamily, floating past them and to the wooden, rickety staircase of the bleachers. "It's time I check my ant farm, father says they're as much of a responsibility as any other pet."

With that, she disappeared down the staircase, humming as she went.

Hermione turned back to Neville, again with curiosity written on her face. What could Neville possibly want to tell her?

Neville fidgeted some more, feeling his palms go sweaty, and butterflies begin to flutter in his stomach. Despite these nervous feelings he was feeling a mounting height of bravery. He could do it, he concluded, he could perhaps actually ask a girl out, and just be himself while doing so. So maybe he belonged in Gryffindor after all.

"Well, I – I just… I wanted to ask you," he said, trailing off. He sighed and decided to try again. "I wanted to ask you… would it be terribly horrible for you to go out on a date with me?"

Hermione's eyes widened and she looked utterly taken aback. Apparently she had suspected his question to be about schoolwork. She really shouldn't have been so surprised, however, and she told herself as much. Neville had asked her out before, though for more formal events. This - this was just... _casual_. Once the initial shock wore off, she looked at him, contemplating what her answer should be.

Neville was one of the sweetest, nicest boys she had ever met. He was definitely loads more sensitive than Ron, who really did have the emotional range of a teaspoon. Neville had always been so kind to her, he had always treated her with respect, and he was always there to eat lunch with her when she wasn't speaking to Harry or Ron.

Besides, she owed Neville anyway. She still felt awful about having to pass him over twice for other boys for past parties. If she hadn't promised Viktor or Cormac, she would have said Yes to her classmate. If not in both counts, then in at least one, for while going out with Viktor to the Yule Ball had been worth it, going with Cormac to Slughorn's Christmas party had most certainly not been.

A slow smile lit up Hermione's features. Perhaps giving Neville a chance wasn't so illogical after all. As seconds passed, Hermione fancied the idea of a date with Neville more and more. Finally, she knew it was a good decision to give it a try.

"Yes," she said shortly. Her smile widened upon seeing the look of relief on Neville's face. "Yes, Neville – I'll go out with you."

Neville looked as if his prayers had been answered. He released a relieved sigh, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "Brilliant! Um…. how about next Tuesday? Valentine's Day in Hogsmeade, you know, and…."

Hermione smiled affectionately at him. "Sure."

"It's a date, then!" And Neville scampered away.

Hermione watched him go, thinking to herself for a moment, before smiling. "Yes," she reiterated to herself. "It _is_ a date."

* * *

Neville was among the first students in the Great Hall the following morning. Some of his classmates quickly paired off, but the Hall was still relatively quiet at this hour, despite the excitement. Neville blinked rather rapidly when he saw Hermione, coming down in a nice sweater and a little wool cap.

"You didn't have to get up early for me!" Neville admonished in a gentlemanly way. Hermione just shrugged.

"I wanted to. And I was up, anyhow. Harry and Ron are still asleep."

"Did you tell them? About our date?" Neville found himself asking.

"I told them enough," Hermione replied. In truth, she had told her friends that she wouldn't be joining them in the village today, but had stopped short of saying who she was going with, fearing how they might react. Ron and Harry had always treated her like a baby sister, ever since they were small children. Never mind that she was the oldest of the three, by however many months. The gesture vacillated between cute and annoying to Hermione, depending on her mood. Quickly realizing how Neville might misconstrue her vague response, she quickly tried to clarify. "I don't mean to say that I am ashamed of this, Neville. I really am touched that you asked me. It's just... Harry and Ron can be very... protective, you know? Especially when I'm around another guy."

Neville smiled, understanding. Just then, McGonagall ushered the first wave of sixth-years on, to the carriages. The threstrals made multiple trips between Hogsmeade Village and Hogwarts Castle, so Hermione was confident that when her friends did wake up, they would take a later carriage into the Village.

Neville and Hermione first stopped at Madame Puddifoot's, which had been decked out in Valentine's Day regalia. The winged cupids who acted as servers were irritating in their attempts to get Hermione and Neville into a romantic, compromising situation. The pair stayed long enough for tea, before moving on to Hermione's favorite bookstore - Tomes and Scrolls. When Hermione selected a volume on house elves, Neville insisted on paying for it himself.

After leaving the bookstore, Hermione and Neville strolled through the whitened streets. The snow was falling heavily now, but not dangerously so. In Neville's mind, it made Hermione all the more attractive, as he stole glances at her.

At last, they reached the outskirts of Hogsmeade, near the woods and just beyond the Shrieking Shack. It was here that Neville noticed Hermione was shivering... and he was startled to discover, for the first time, that she wore no gloves. "Aren't your hands cold?"

Hermione flushed pink, obviously disappointed in herself that Neville had noticed. "My old gloves are frayed. Mum and Dad are sending me new ones. I put a Heating Charm on my hands when I woke up this morning. I..." She seemed to be searching for her wand, and in a moment of bravery, Neville suddenly took her hands in his. Opening his coat, and the shirt beneath, he placed Hermione's hands on his chest, hoping his body heat would keep her warm.

Hermione stared at her hands, then up into Neville's face, startled at his gallantry. She could feel his heartbeat, thumping erratically. "I don't want to make you cold," she murmured.

Neville gazed at her. "I quite like it," he whispered sincerely. He felt his hands slide up Hermione's arms, gripping her just beneath the shoulders. Hermione's eyes widened, but then seemed to grow heavy. They almost fluttered shut. Unconsciously, her hands suddenly bunched up some of Neville's chest, fisting the skin. She let out a tiny gasp, that turned into a whimper as Neville began to pull her close…..

"HERMIONE!"

Neville and Hermione jumped apart, barely giving any thought to the fact that they had very nearly just kissed in the middle of the street. Turning, they saw Ginny sprinting up the snowy road towards them, her red hair flying behind her like a banner.

"Gin, what is it?"

"Katie Bell," Ginny gasped with a wheeze, out of breath. "Harry and Ron found her…. she's been cursed!"

Hermione put a hand to her mouth. "I…. I have to go." She turned back to Neville apologetically, not quite sure what to say and afraid of what might need to be addressed even if she could. "I'm sorry, Neville, thank you. I had a lovely time, really. I…." She took off running after Ginny, leaving a forlorn Neville staring after her.


	11. Chapter 11: Before You Regret It

**Chapter 11: Before You Regret It**

Hermione Granger stood in the boys common room of the Gryffindor tower, studying the trunks and supplies before her. She had been tasked with packing Harry and Ron's things for the Horcrux Hunt they had just decided to embark upon come the fall, while the boys helped usher adult guests back to the Hogwarts Express following Dumbledore's funeral.

The silence was so unnerving and complete, that she did not even hear the approach of footsteps behind her, so lost in thought was she about what they would need to inventory.

"Hermione? What are you doing up here?"

She spun around, a hand to her heart, to find Neville Longbottom staring at her. "Neville! You startled me!"

He smiled apologetically, but his eyes still asked the question he had just voiced. Hermione shrugged.

"Harry and Ron asked me to pack for them while they cleared up at the funeral." Which was technically the truth, just vague.

Neville chuckled as he crossed to his bunk. "You do too much for them."

"They're not going to last that long out there without me..." Hermione muttered.

She said too much, wishing she could take it back, but too late. Neville had picked up on it. Turning, he frowned, "What do you mean, _'out there'_?"

In all the years she had known him, Hermione had never been able to lie to the sweet young man standing in front of her. His piercing green eyes had never allowed a falsehood from her. So, even though Harry had expressly ordered that they tell no one about what they were doing or where they were going, she admitted, "Harry and Ron and I aren't coming back next year, Neville. We have to go... on a mission."

Neville drew closer to her, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to peer into Hermione's soul. "It has something to do with Voldemort," he accurately guessed.

Hermione visibly gulped. "Yes," she whispered.

Neville stiffened as he took in this information. "You can't!" he burst out. "His minions are already looking for Harry; you'll all get yourselves killed!"

Recalling a memory from their childhood, and trying to talk Neville off the ledge before he went blabbing to anyone else, Hermione joked, "You're not going to threaten to fight us without a wand again, are you?"

Neville didn't take the bait. "Oh, we're far past that, Hermione!" he chuckled mirthlessly. "And what are you thinking, letting Harry and Ron talk you into this? You're Muggle-born! If the Death Eaters get their hands on you..."

"I'll be fine!" Hermione insisted with a brave smile.

"You don't understand! If something happened to you... how could I ever live with myself?" Neville looked strangely pained.

Hermione gazed at him curiously as Neville regarded her with tears in his eyes. All at once, several, disparate memories assaulted her and fit together to point to one conclusion. A conclusion she hadn't thought of before. Neville threatening to fight her and her friends during their first year. Neville always turning to her for help in hard subjects. Neville asking her to the Yule Ball, and then to Slughorn's Christmas party; she had turned him down both times on account of already having a date. The time they finally went on a date this year, on Valentine's Day in Hogsmeade, and he had almost... And Neville's particular concern for her now, on a high-stakes mission.

Hermione understood and her features softened. Why hadn't she seen before that he cared so much? She sidled up to Neville, a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Neville... if there's something you want to tell me... tell me now before you regret it."

Silence. Hermione leaned forward eagerly, waiting for him to say the words, if not for her own peace, then for his. And maybe it actually was for her own peace, in some way...

He didn't say a word, just stared at her, pained. Sad that he could not clear the air before possibly not seeing her again, Hermione trudged past him and left to go over to the girls' dormitory, gather some of her things. By the time she returned to the boys' room, Neville was gone.


	12. Chapter 12: Kiss Me

**Chapter 12: Kiss Me**

"Harry You're alive!"

Watching the young man stumble out of the portrait above Aberforth's mantle, Hermione was struck by how... handsome he had become in the last year. He had certainly slimmed down in all the right places, then built himself back up; toned muscles could be seen under his shirt. Neville Longbottom looked like he had been through as much of a war as she and her friends had - apparent from the scratches and marks she saw on his face as he turned to her and Ron and, with shouts of joy, was hugging them too.

Neville stopped short of embracing her, and so did Hermione, all at once feeling a little shy. She covered it well, however, stepping into his arms and throwing her arms about his neck. Truly, she had missed him while they had been gone on the Horcrux Hunt.

Hermione appreciated Neville's gallantry as he helped her onto the mantle and into the portrait hole, Harry and Ron scrambling after them. As they went along the darkened passageway for what seemed like a long time, Neville gave them an update on Hogwarts... which wasn't really Hogwarts anymore. Snape and a couple of his Death Eater comrades had taken over the castle; the subjects Muggle Studies and Defense Against the Dark Arts had been perverted in a way that made Umbridge look like a cuddly saint by comparison. With pride, Hermione hung on every word of Neville explaining how he had reactivated the DA with Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley, leading an inside rebellion against the Carrows.

"I got this one..." he gestured to the ghastly gash on his cheek, "...for asking Amycus how much Muggle blood she and her brother have got."

"Bloody hell, Neville!" Ron ogled, impressed. "There's a time and a place for a smart mouth!"

The quartet emerged in the Room of Requirement to cheers. Neville helped Hermione down, lowering her to Earth by her waist. The gesture made her blush, and she hoped no one saw. McGonagall quickly rounded everyone up and began barking out orders - with the Snape and the Carrows having apparently fled, Voldemort and his forces were coming; the castle would be under attack soon. Harry huddled up with his two best friends.

"Luna thinks she knows where the diadem is. I'm going to break in Ravenclaw tower to get it."

"And I'll destroy the Cup!" Ron volunteered. "I know just how to do it..." He sprinted off before Hermione could offer to go with him, or even ask what his plan was.

"Miss Granger!" McGonagall suddenly barked. "You and Mr. Longbottom will fortify the Astronomy Tower parapet!" Her voice left no room for argument.

Hermione and Neville scaled the Astronomy Tower, emerging onto the parapet to see an bubble of orange glow encasing the castle. Protective charms. In the distance, out by the Forbidden Forest, a distant rumbling could be heard. They were coming.

Wands drawn, scanning for danger, Hermione and Neville listened to the castle gradually quiet down, grow unnervingly still, as everyone who had not evacuated hunkered down and prepared for battle. Hermione chanced a glance at her... friend and just as quickly looked away.

"You can see if other towers need reinforcements if you want," she murmured. "Or try and get somewhere safer."

Neville shook his head No. "They're after me anyway. And, you know, I'd rather be here." _With you_ , he added as a silent afterthought. A silence and then: "I missed you."

"I missed you too." Hermione had, very much. She had thought of him so often during the Hunt, wondering if she would ever see him again, if she would have the opportunity to...

She took a deep breath. It was now or never. They would probably both be dead by dawn, anyway. And he had been so patient... _years_ of patience. And she herself couldn't wait anymore. Turning to him, her voice and demeanor ever practical, she ordered:

"Kiss me."

Neville gaped at her, wondering if she was serious. Then, he took her in his arms, one calloused hand cradling the back of her neck, the other gliding about her waist. He hovered for a moment, too long for Hermione's liking, so she seized his shirt in her fists and closed the gap between them, smashing her lips to his in a heated, long kiss. Hermione closed her eyes. She felt him kiss her back.

The pair quickly became more involved. Neville's tongue flicked out against Hermione's lips, seeking entrance. She gasped into his mouth, parting her lips for him so that his tongue slipped effortlessly down her throat. Tilting her head, Hermione kissed Neville harder, granting him better access. Draping her arms about his neck, her palms splaying across his shoulders so that the fabric of his shirt bunched in her knuckles, she moaned in pleasure. "Mmmm... Hmmmmm..."

Neville, meanwhile, began to explore her body. The calloused palm about Hermione's waist glided lower, daring to grope and squeeze her ass through here tight jeans, his nails digging into her accentuated flesh. Accepting the challenge with relish, Hermione gallingly raised her leg to Neville's middle, hooking her thigh about his torso. Her one hand sprung from his shoulderblades as she assertively cupped Neville between his legs, eliciting a choked groan and a harmonized fondling of her left breast. Tightly pressed against Neville, Hermione's bruised lips curved into a satisfied smile.

It was the best kiss Hermione had ever had in her life, quite honestly... lightyears better than Viktor Krum - a series of sloppy, hurried pecks with a man much older than her. In this moment, Hermione didn't think about the Horcruxes, or about the Battle, or about...

As Hermione and Neville embraced and kissed, spells had begun to rain down on the orange protective bubble. There was a piercing shriek as fireworks and flares wheezed and exploded in the nighttime sky above Hogwarts; the old institution was sending up signals of distress to try and call for more help. The structure of the castle itself began to shake, and Hermione felt herself losing her balance. Neville lifted, swept her off her feet and limbs folded about each other, the couple staggered, still heatedly snogging, into the Astonomy Tower.

"Mmm!" Hermione gave a muffled squeal, as she felt Neville's pelvis lock against hers with the ease of a jigsaw puzzle piece, as she felt his hips flagrantly hump hers, clearly indicating his need for sex. She flushed crimson, and would have taken him for a bloody hot shag right there, if another quaking of the castle didn't make them break apart, their arms still around each other.

Hermione looked scandalized at their compromising position, and the very unladylike, un-Hermione-ish choices she had made to get there. Her flushed face and lips looked so adorable though, that a beaming Neville could not help but kiss her again before she could object. Hermione allowed it, with a bit of amusement.

"Mm - all right!" she laughed. "No more snogging. We have a battle to fight." Neville gracefully set her down, and hearing shouts from down below, she turned for the Tower staircase. But then she doubled back, grabbed Neville and kissed him hard. "For luck," she gasped when she broke the kiss at last. And then, because this might be her last chance to tell him, she got out: "I love you!"

Neville winked. "I know. I love you too. I always have."

* * *

Harry defeated Lord Voldemort, destroyed all the Horcruxes. But not before upwards of sixty Hogswartsians died fighting the Dark Lord.

Reuniting with a crushing hug and a chaste kiss, and entering the Great Hall hand-in-hand, Hermione and Neville were shocked to discover that close friends and family were among the fallen.

Hermione flew to Harry's side, her eyes stricken, to see that almost all of the Weasleys lay dead. Ginny was the only survivor and Ron was not long for this world. Hermione sank to her knees besides her dying best mate, and cradled his head in her lap, tears falling onto the redhead's upturned face. With the last of his strength, Ron lifted himself off the ground and captured Hermione's lips in a gentle kiss. Slightly startled, but quickly recovering, Hermione closed her eyes, a tear managing to squeeze out, as she indulged the parting gift, even kissing him back. Ron finally drew away.

"I love you," Ron got out. "And I'm sorry. I wish I had told you sooner."

Hermione gulped back a sob as Neville knelt beside her. Ron's eyes found his.

"Longbottom: take care of her, you understand?"

Neville tried not to gawk as he nodded, accepting his final mission. He _knew_? How? And how _much_ did he know? He didn't have time to ask these questions, and perhaps they didn't matter, for Ron soon died in Hermione's arms. Ginny, the last living member of her family, could not be comforted - not even by the man who had brought down the darkest wizard in history. Not even Harry Potter had that kind of power.

McGonagall, the new Headmistress, held court at the end of the Hall. "We should have been prepared... for how much we lost."

* * *

That night, Hermione and Neville kissed passionately, broken only by the nervous smiles and giggles of two friends having recently become something more. Falling back onto Neville's four-poster and drawing the curtains, the couple undressed each other and tenderly began to make love. It was just as well that they were alone to just be with each other: Harry was sleeping with Ginny that night, and Seamus and Dean were both in the hospital wing, pretty banged up. And Ron... was gone...

Hermione clawed at Neville's naked back, letting out a choked breath as his manliness entered her womanhood, defiling it. Kissing him so hard that she bit down on his bottom lips, she let him ride her. The bed creaked and swayed beneath them, Hermione's fingernails dug into his rippling skin. Her breasts jiggled, her toes curled. She spread her knees apart more to nestle her lover closer still, her long legs squeezing around his middle.

"Mmmm... Hmmmm... Huhhhh! UHHH! OH! Merlin... Oh... oh my goodness... Oh my Godric... Neville, yes! Harder! Fuck me, shag me... please..."

At last, she came with a whimpering mewl, and Neville quickly followed, grunting as he spilled his seed into this gorgeous woman. Hermione was thankfully on the Contraceptive Charm, but Neville looked so beautiful above her, she wouldn't have minded if she wasn't.

They held each other in the darkness, their sweaty, naked bodies only illuminated by the moon. Neville watched as Hermione's orbs, blackened with lust, gradually calmed into their luminous brown again. She pressed a kiss to his bare chest, and he returned it into her bushy brown hair.

"Did you love Ron?" The question pinged out without Neville meaning it to.

Hermione bit her lip in a way he thought was quite cute, pondering her answer.

"Yes," she got out at last. "A part of me will always love him. He made a lot of mistakes, especially on the Hunt, but he came back to me. He protected me. I'll never forgive myself for how I treated him sometimes. If he had asked me to marry him, I just might have said Yes, or at least considered it..." Noticing Neville glance away, she cupped a gentle palm to his cheek, forcing him to look at her. "But it would have been _agony_ to choose. Between the two of you. If Ron had survived. And you've waited forever for me..."

Neville smiled. "I understand." And he truly did. He bent over to kiss her, and she returned it with a smile.

"If we ever have a baby one day, I'd want to name him Ronald." Hermione whispered into his lips, her voice strangely hoarse, and she turned a little pink when they drew apart, scolding herself for moving so impulsively - something she did not often do. She shouldn't be thinking this far ahead.

And besides, they had years to go out proper and find out if this relationship could work. For now, comforting each other was enough.


	13. Chapter 13: Enchanted Rose A Hit!

**Chapter 13: Enchanted Rose... A Hit!**

Harry offered to have Neville join him in the Auror Department, after the war, but the young hero humbly declined. After a year of defending Hogwarts almost entirely on his own, Neville was exhausted, and wanted to focus on his relationship with Hermione.

When Harry came upon the pair openly kissing on the dilapidated Hogwarts grounds one day, a few days after the Battle, he gently took Neville aside and gave the couple his blessing. But it also came with a warning: "She's like my baby sister. If you hurt my best girl, I will not hesitate to kill you. I've killed before; I can kill again. And if Ron were in your place, I would be telling him the same thing."

Each with new respect for the other, the men shook hands under Hermione's bemused smile.

Neville opted to re-do his seventh year at Hogwarts, and his girlfriend Hermione joined him. Though technically referred to as _'eighth-years'_ by most of the staff, Neville and Hermione enjoyed serving as role models for the little ones. There was some occassional rule-breaking, such as sneaking out after hours to snog in an empty classroom, and often, Hermione had to be convinced to engage in these little escapades.

At the end of the year, Gryffindor won the House Cup. And Headmistress McGonagall had an announcement to make:

"Professors Sprout and Flitwick shall be retiring the end of this year, and they have both taken the unusual step of nominating their successors. Pomona?"

Pomona Sprout stood and sent her gaze directly at Neville. "I nominate Neville Longbottom to be my successor."

Seamus and Dean roared in approval, clapping their good friend on the back; a stunned Neville felt Hermione press a kiss into his cheek.

Then Professor Flitwick stood. "I wish for Miss Hermione Granger to teach in my stead."

Now it was Neville's turn to roar in approval. "That's my girlfriend! That's my girlfriend!" he shouted proudly to anyone who would listen.

But Hermione, with a decision to make, hesitated. "May I think for a month or so before I give you my answer, Professor?"

Surprised, Flitwick agreed. "The post is yours if you want it, child."

* * *

Neville had been trying to talk his girlfriend into accepting the post ever since the End-of-Year Feast. They bickered about it over Hermione packing. They bantered about it all the way to Hogsmeade Station.

"Love, you're the best witch to come out of this place in a generation! Just take it! We can be here together, live here - they pay staff handsomely! We can get going with life!"

Pausing as she leaned out the window of the train car, Hermione eyed her boyfriend beneath her on the platform. "Not until I find out what's become of my parents, Neville." She had told him, one night after making love, about magically sending her parents into exile.

"And then you'll come back?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Yes," she answered at last.

"You promise?" Neville prodded, encouraged.

"I promise. Now shut up and snog me."

The train whistle blew its last warning. Cupping his face in her hands, Hermione bent out the window and kissed her boyfriend with all the strength she could muster. His hands disappearing into her long hair, Neville kissed her back. Their lips held the kiss, deepened it, even as the train started to pull away. Hermione and Neville broke the kiss at last, wrenching free, and Neville set into a run to catch up with her carriage as long as he could.

"Goodbye! I love you!"

Hermione beamed tenderly. "I know. I love you, too."

* * *

Hermione did accept the Charms professorship, though she returned to her boyfriend's arms with a heavy heart. She had discovered that her parents had been discovered and tragically murdered in Australia, by Voldemort's forces. The atrocities looked like the work of the mercifully dead Bellatrix Lestrange.

Neville helped her grieve, and the couple threw themselves into their teaching, sleeping together alternately in each other's chambers, comparing lesson plans and trying to ignore the gossip from fresh first-years and even older students about the real nature of their relationship.

One fine spring day, towards the end of their first year of teaching, Professors Longbottom and Granger took a romantic stroll along the castle grounds, which were slowly but surely being rebuilt. By the Black Lake, Hermione gaped in astonishment as Neville suddenly turned to face her and got down on one knee. A shimmering red rose appeared, but this time, it was accompanied by a ring:

"Hermione Jean Granger, I love you. I have since our first year. You are kind and brave and have a good heart. I will love and honor you your whole life if you will let me. Will you marry me?"

Stunned, Hermione sank to the grass so that they were eye-level. She stared at Neville, and then the rose. Silence, and then:

"Your act's getting a little stale, love."

She had meant for it to come out as a joke, about this being the third rose in however many years, but Neville suddenly looked crestfallen, bracing himself for a _No_ or _Not Yet, Ask Me Again Later_. Getting a very intense look on her face, Hermione took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. She drew away gently, drumming her fingers along his jawline as she contemplated her answer.

"Yes."

"Yes?" Neville gawped, heart alighting.

Hermione laughed and kissed him again. "Yes. I will marry you. I love you, Neville."

* * *

For the rest of the term, the engaged Professors kept their impending wedding a secret, drawing up invitations late at night. The rest of the staff was given top consideration, though there was one sore point that left both Hermione and Neville at a loss for what to do.

Draco Malfoy had been granted the position of Potions Master after the Battle - a move that was deemed by even some of his colleagues as very controversial. Only the students in Slytherin House seemed to respect him or at the very least grant him sympathy, as his reputation for being a coward at best and a traitor at worst preceded him. It would probably hang over his head for the rest of his life.

Neville knew all about the sorry tale of Malfoy Manor from his bride-to-be, and could understand why she would feel the urge to snub Malfoy of an invite to the wedding. For his part, Neville didn't want the blond git there, but he did not voice this thought to his fiancé, even when she tried to ask him for it. He was of the opinion that only Hermione could make the choice. "It's your call, love."

So, at the final staff meeting of the year, Hermione called the Hogwarts team to order. "I have an announcement." She turned to Neville, who beamed encouragingly. "Professor Longbottom and I are getting married. This summer. We want to do it on the Grounds, by the Black Lake."

Minerva McGonagall shrieked and ran around the table to hug her former pupil. The table burst into applause, with Professors Binns and Dean Thomas (from Defense Against the Dark Arts) pumping Neville's hand.

"You're all invited," Hermione began to deal out the invitations, stopping at a certain Professor's chair last of all...

And handing out an envelope.

"Even you."

Draco Malfoy looked like he had just been hexed, evidently expecting to get snubbed by the witch he had once tormented, and even passively watched being tortured by his aunt. "Really?" He gingerly took the outstretched envelope. "Thank you." And for the first time in his life, he sounded genuine. Truly touched and moved.

Hermione, however, kept her expression neutral. "I forgive you," she told Draco simply. Neville beamed with pride.

* * *

It was a lovely wedding. Hermione was the most stunningly beautiful bride. Without her parents there, she had asked Harry Potter (the youngest-ever Head of the Auror Department) in a heartfelt request to give her away.

Now down by the Black Lake, her oldest childhood friend and the closest thing she had to a brother offered her his arm. "Madame... shall we?"

Hermione giggled and curtsied. "I'd be honored, Master Auror."

Harry escorted Hermione down the aisle, and after handing her off to Neville, Hermione lovingly kissed Harry on the cheek in thanks. The Chosen One took his place in the front row, in the folding chairs with Dean on his left and pointedly not looking at Draco Malfoy on his right.

Seamus Finnegan stood by as Best Man. Nigel Wolpert, now ordained a Minister, officiated.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Professor."

Neville and Hermione lovingly embraced as the whole Grounds erupted in cheers and applause. Lee Jordan set off a round of Filibuster Fireworks, much to McGonagall's chagrin.

At the reception, Harry danced with the bride. "Ginny will see you to the airport. I have to slip out of here and hope no one notices."

Hermione's heart twinged as she gazed up at him. "A mission?"

"Undercover. Dangerous. Daedalus is going with me; old tosser is more than capable of watching my back."

Hermione squeezed him in a tight hug. "Be careful," she implored.

"Hey: it's me." Harry grinned and kissed her forehead. "You look beautiful, little sister. Love you."

Hermione grinned with deep affection. "Right back at ya, big brother."


	14. Chapter 14: Godparents

**Chapter 14: Godparents**

Harry answered the door on the third knock. "Neville! 'Mione! Come on in!"

Hermione bestowed kisses on both Harry and her best girlfriend Ginny as she and her husband entered the foyer. Neville enthusiastically shook Harry's hand. The Longbottoms were joining their dear friends the Potters for tea, during the 2005 winter holidays. Harry took the kettle off the stove as he moved to the table.

"So: how does it feel to be the first husband-wife team teaching at Hogwarts in over a century, according to McGonagall?"

Hermione smiled bemusedly over the rim of her mug. "Six years of marriage and the gossip mill hasn't slowed down. Some of the first-years have asked me from time to time when I'm going to have a baby."

Harry choked a little on his tea. "They're precocious, I'll give them that."

"I don't mind. They're such little darlings!"

"You're more patient with them than I would be, Hermione," Ginny frowned.

"Bat-Bogey hexes all around for the little ones, I reckon? Take cover!" And Neville made a show of trying to duck under the table. Ginny half-heartedly scowled at her old friend.

"Well, if you think my maternal instincts are going to be that awful, you prat..."

Neville stopped short. "What did you say, Gin?"

Hermione looked between her husband and her two friends, understanding dawning. "Ginny...?"

"We're pregnant!" Harry blurted out, wanting to say the words first, as though it was a race.

A moment's silence. And then Hermione squealed, running around to hug Ginny as Neville punched Harry in the shoulder.

"Oh, Ginny!"

"Yes... and it's a boy," Harry regarded the Longbottoms. "You'll be godmother and godfather? Ginny says no one better."

Hermione burst into tears, splashing them down her front. "OH! I'm going to be an _aunt_!" She turned to her husband excitedly. "We're going to be godparents!"

Neville leaned back and smiled, almost smug. "Yeah..."

* * *

Nine months later, Albus Severus Potter - Harry and Ginny's first child - was born.

The baptism was held at the Black Lake, with Hermione and Neville holding their godson as Nigel lowered him into the water. Hermione looked resplendent, laughing as Albus played with her pearls and tried to stick them into his mouth.

* * *

The years passed. 11-year-old Albus Potter had just started his first year at Hogwarts. Sorted into Gryffindor House like his ancestors before him, he quickly made many new friends. Plus, he had his Aunt and Uncle at the castle to keep an eye on him.

Classmates always asked him if it was strange, having Professors Longbottom as his godparents, but Albus shrugged it off. He always granted Uncle Neville and Aunt Hermione with the highest amount of respect. He was a good student, hard worker. Respectful of his elders.

So it was one day after Charms class, when Hermione asked to see her nephew after class.

"OK, not your Professor right now. Godmother taking over: your uncle wants to see you in the greenhouses during your free period, if you have the time."

Albus grinned. "Sure, Aunt Hermione. No problem."

Hermione beamed lovingly at him. "That's my best boy. Off you go." But then she called him back. "Hold on!" And she kissed his cheek. " _Now_ you can go. Love you!"

"Love you," Albus echoed. At least his aunt's kisses were more tolerable than his mother's. Aunt Hermione never smothered him the way Ginny did.

Albus raced down to the greenhouses, where he found his Uncle Neville bent over a Venomous Tentactula, with a fine head of red hair beside him.

"Hey, Uncle Neville!" Albus deposited his satchel. "Hey Rhona."

Ronalda "Rhona" Longbottom, with her long red hair, grinned broadly at her only _'cousin.'_ When Hermione had first told her husband she was pregnant, she had thought she had been carrying a boy... and knew what she wanted to name him, to fulfill a promise to herself. However, the day she gave birth, Hermione had been surprised to discover that she was having a daughter. Doing some research, Hermione and Neville had decided to fudge it and use the closest feminine version of Ronald. Managing to still teach up until mere weeks before her delivery, Hermione had been moved to tears when her baby had emerged a girl and with fine red locks so that she almost looked like a Weasley. Hermione had taken it as a sign from above, from her lost friend, and had even shaken her head heavenwards. "You prat," she had whispered affectionately. "Only you could pull a stunt like this, Ronald."

At seven years old, Rhona lived with her parents in the staff quarters of the castle, and was a staple figure around the grounds and at Quidditch matches. She couldn't wait to start at Hogwarts, but for now was content with helping her Mum and Dad wherever it was needed.

"Hey, Al!" Neville greeted his godson with a ruffle of the hair.

"Daddy and I are pruning this Tentacula!" Rhona told her cousin excitedly. "We were just about to take a break!"

"How about some lunch?" Neville pulled up a stool for Albus.

And together, the three sat down for a lovely picnic in the greenhouse. Hermione soon joined them, kissing Neville rather indecently as she entered.

"Yuck!" Rhona made a face. "Mummy!"

Albus shook his head. It was scandalizing enough that it was two of his Professors snogging. But, since they were also his Aunt and Uncle, he figured he had it better than all of his peers.

Sitting gracefully in Neville's lap, her head on his shoulder, Hermione realized she had everything she could ever want. A fulfilling career, a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and a wonderful godson/nephew. The fitting ending to an incredible love story.


End file.
